


It's the Last Moment That's the Hardest

by chemicalburnfromthespiralperm



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Angst Dean Winchester, Episode: s01e22 All Hell Breaks Loose Part 2, M/M, Wincest - Freeform
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-08-19
Updated: 2012-08-19
Packaged: 2017-11-12 10:57:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,005
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/490124
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/chemicalburnfromthespiralperm/pseuds/chemicalburnfromthespiralperm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Sam dies.  Dean deals...  or doesn't.</p>
            </blockquote>





	It's the Last Moment That's the Hardest

It’s the way Sam’s eyes just _don’t_ anymore.

Dean stood and watched as everything his brother was slip-slides away into this empty nothing and he feels like he’ll never be happy again, but it’s in that moment when he lays Sam down, _lays him down_ , in the backseat, the _back fucking seat_ , that he knows he literally will never be happy again.

There’s nothing left in those crystal green orbs, and Dean’s hand shakily closes them and he wants to die, too.

Dean doesn’t remember driving to Bobby’s house. All he knows is that he’s parked under the garage, dim lights flickering here and there, and his eyes are screaming, begging him to look in the rearview mirror, if only just to pretend that Sam’s sleeping. Sam isn’t dead, he’s just sleeping, but every part of him knows that Sam doesn’t like being alone when he sleeps, that he’d choose the front seat over the backseat any day just to be near Dean so this is killing him even more.

Dean’s a big guy, but it doesn’t take him much effort to climb into the backseat. He stares for long moments before pulling at Sam by his shirt, maneuvering them until Sam is snuggled, cuddled gently against Dean’s chest and Dean cries. He cries so hard that he’s positive he’s going to die until he falls asleep like that, his brother’s dead body cradled against him like they’re eight and four all over again.

Bobby finds them like that in the morning and he wants to throw up. Sam doesn’t look alive or asleep anymore. He looks dead, literally, and Bobby wants to throw up. It takes him long, long minutes before he gathers up the strength to knock on the window and wake Dean up.

Dean awakes with a start, the rapping on the window all too surreal to not be real, and that’s when he notices Sam stiff against him. He wonders how long they’ve been asleep, wonders where they’ve been, what they were hunting, and why, out of no where, they climbed into the back seat and fell asleep. He scrubs his face with his hand and tries to push Sam off of him.

“C’mon, Sammy, get offa me! Fuckin’ gigantor…” 

He stretches underneath Sam, but Sam isn’t moving. Sam… Sam’s not even breathing.

Dean frantically looks down, and he sees that they’re both covered in blood, and that’s when the synapses in his brain fire and remind him that Sam is dead. Sam died yesterday. The blood they are covered in is Sam’s blood. Sam’s blood, because he got stabbed to death and he died.

Sam is dead.

Dean wants to die, too.

It’s in that moment that Dean starts to cry.

Bobby opens the door, tears in his own eyes. He has no idea how to untangle them from this mess, literally and metaphorically. There’s nothin’ that can bring Sam back. He’s dead, and Jesus fuck if that doesn’t make Bobby want to die, too. Sam was so young. Sam has always been so fucking _young_.

“Dean, come on, Dean, you gotta get up.”

“Bobby, no!” and that’s when Dean goes hysterical. He clutches Sam’s body so fucking tight, won’t let go, cries into the top of his cold hair. Bobby can’t imagine what that must feel like, holding a dead body.

“Sam’s not in there anymore, Dean!” Bobby’s crying now, too. ”That’s just his body! He ain’t in there no more, kid! Come on, you _gotta_ get up!”

“Bobby! Bobby, I can’t! No, no, no, no…” Dean is sobbing. Bobby has never seen Dean completely lose it like this before. ”No, no, no…” He keeps chanting that over and over. He doesn’t want this to be real.

Neither does Bobby.

Bobby has to carry Dean inside of the house.

He manages to untangle them, lay Sam back down on the seat, and Bobby has never wanted to take a shower in fire more in his life because touching a dead body the way he’s touching Sam’s makes him feel dirty. There’s something not right about it. He’s dug up and set fire to hundreds of bones before this, but this is Sam. His boy. _Sam_.

He sets Dean on the couch. Pulls a blanket over him. Dean’s shivering, sobbing, almost hyperventilating, and Bobby is a little scared. 

He walks back out to the Impala, the only real home Sam and Dean have ever had, and he pulls the body into his arms. It’s stiff, freezing, dirty and bloody, and Bobby wants to throw up again because this isn’t Sam. This is just the thing that carried Sam, that carried that bright, vibrant spirit that pushed and pushed and prevailed no matter what anyone brought to him. 

It takes him five minutes to walk into the house and lay Sam down on the bed in the den. Dean’s fallen asleep, thank God, he needs it, and Bobby arranges Sam in a dutiful way—looks like he’s sleeping with those pouty lips pushed out and his brow free from creases. Looks just like the little boy Bobby had cared for all those years ago.

Dean watches from feet away because he can’t bring himself to get any closer than that. 

He took the time (once he got up and on his feet and threw up for ten minutes and nearly drowned himself in the shower before Bobby came in and almost killed him himself for doing it and ate and then threw up again) to arrange Sam so that it looked like he was sleeping. His body was stiff now. Skin cold and papery and nothing like the delicious velvet it had been before he… passed.

He can’t bring himself to get any closer than a few feet because he can literally feel how cold Sam’s body is, how lifeless and icy it is like it’s a fuckin’ incubator for feelings. All Dean can do is stand there and just watch. 

“I had one job, Sammy… and I messed it up.”


End file.
